


Fight for Freedom

by hamilton_fanatic1776



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: American Revolution, Father Figures, Gen, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Some Abuse, South Carolina Militia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2019-10-17 13:32:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17561357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamilton_fanatic1776/pseuds/hamilton_fanatic1776
Summary: John joins the South Carolina militia at 16. Many more adventures await him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to make my own backstory for John. So that's partially what this is. Though it's not all of it. I also kind of thought of this in the shower so...yeah.

John Laurens’s father finally allowed him to join the militia at 16 years old. He was excited and packed a small bag before heading off to the South Carolina Militia camp…

 

“PRESENT!” 

Several young men, aged 14-20, had already loaded their muskets and pointed them out, ready to...

“FIRE!”

John stepped into the camp as several shots ran out. He nearly jumped out of his skin but took a breath and walked closer to the commander. The soldiers reloaded at the sound of the drum, took aim, and waited for the command to fire. Commander Greene spun around to face the young man. “Can I help you? We’re in the middle of drills!”

John looked slightly uneasy now at his tone. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m here to join the militia.”

All the other soldiers were getting slightly irritated at having to hold position for this long. Greene looked back at his other men. “FIRE!”

Another round of shots that made John flinch. The Commander went back to John and shoved him slightly. “Go to the main tent and put on a uniform. If any part is on incorrectly, you will march the entire camp with the drummers as punishment.”

John nodded and went to the tent to dress. It took him a few minutes, but he got it on correctly and breathed a sigh a relief. He wasn’t ready to be humiliated in front of everyone. Not when he literally just got here. He stepped out to a waiting Greene for inspection and stood tall and proud. Perhaps too proud. He felt a harsh slap across his face and tried not to make a sound.

“Wipe that smile off your face, boy. This is wartime, not playtime.” Greene tipped his chin up and looked him over. “Well, at least you got the first part down. Go grab a musket and two cartridges from inside.” He let go of him and crossed his arms.

John went back in the tent and grabbed a gun and two paper cartridges, shoving them into his uniform pocket and stepping back out. “Ready, sir.”

Commander Greene laughed. “Ready? Alright then. Show me how to load it.” He grabbed him by the arm and roughly pulled him to the shooting range with a scarecrow with a red jacket as one of their practice targets.

John internally panicked. He had no idea what he was doing. He grabbed one of the cartridges and just tried shoving the whole thing in the barrel. Greene snatched it from him. “No!” He tore off the end of the paper with his teeth, poured the black gunpowder in the barrel, pushed the still wrapped musket ball in it, and pushed it the rest of the way down with the rod. He pulled back the flintlock and shot the target perfectly in the chest before handing the gun back to John. “Now, do it right for god sake.”

John repeated everything he did but missed the target when he shot. He internally cringed and wanted to cry then and there. “I-I’m sorry, I’ve never shot a gun before.”

Greene felt a small bit of sympathy for him but had to remain stern and commander-like. “You’ll learn soon enough. Do it again.” He handed him a few more cartridges.

John took them and repeated the process at least three more times before he finally hit the target in the abdomen. Greene put his hand on his shoulder. “Good work. You’ll need more practice before you can join drills.” He took the musket from him and pointed to a large obstacle course beside them. Huge fallen logs lined the field along with mud pits, and other soldiers standing by to fire blanks at him. “Now you begin the more intense training of evading capture and gunfire.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John meets a young girl who is a slave for the army and gets pissed...essentially.

John looked over the course to get a feel for how he was going to do this. He didn’t get to think much before Commander Greene shoved him toward it. “You have 10 seconds before they start shooting. Starting now.”

He took off, running through the mud. He cleared the first log but stumbled over the second as the soldiers shot off their blanks.

“GET UP, JOHN!”

John scrambled to his feet, covered in mud. He dodged branches while others smacked him in the face.

“ADVANCE!”

The soldiers started marching toward the boy, which only made him work harder to clear the fallen logs. He was on high alert and didn’t have to steal a glance behind him to know they were getting closer. He struggled to keep himself upright at places and soon enough one caught up to him, tackling him to the ground. John panicked, which was a big no-no, and gave a kick to the soldier’s groin. He groaned in pain and fell away from John. “I don’t get paid enough for this!”

Greene wasn’t sure whether to be pissed or impressed. “ENOUGH!” He ran over and grabbed John, who was stick kicking the shit out of the poor man.

“LET ME GO!”

Greene pinned his hands behind his back. “You’ve made your point, now knock it off, Laurens!”

John stopped fighting them and scrambled to his feet once more after yanking away from him. “Next time don’t fucking tackle me!” He stormed off to one of the empty tents.

Greene dismissed the soldier and followed John, grabbing his wrist. “Okay, so what we’re not going to do is curse at me or your fellow soldiers, nor are you going to walk away from me until I’ve given you orders to do so. I’m reluctantly going to spare you the whip right now, but this is your only warning. Now get back out there and do it again.”

John blinked away the tears that were threatening to fall and went back to the field, jumping over the logs, running through the mud pits, dodging branches, and evading “arrest” again, and again, and again until finally, he could clear the course in less than three minutes without falling.

“Very good, kid. You may retire to your tent for the night. We’ll have more musket practice tomorrow.” Greene turned and walked away, leaving a very worn and weary Laurens to fend for himself.

Harriet had been busy tending to the militia’s wheat fields but when she saw John, she walked over and curtsied to him. “May I walk you back to your tent, sir?”

John looked up from staring at the ground and cracked a small smile. “That would be kind, thank you. May I ask your name?”

Harriet forced a smile. “Well, my name is Harriet, but Master Nathaneal calls me ‘hey, you’ or ‘slave girl’. So I suppose that’s up to you, sir.”

John had grown up with slavery, which only made him hate it more. “You’re human too and deserve to be treated as such. I will refer to you as Harriet.”

The preteen girl looked as though she might cry. “You’d really do that for me, sir?”

John smiled genuinely this time and kissed her on the cheek. “Most definitely. How old are you? Also, you may refer to me as John if you feel comfortable doing so.”

Harriet giggled a little and hugged him. “I’m 11, John.”

John wrapped his arms around her skinny frame. “I’m 16. It was very nice to meet you and you’re a very hard worker.”

Nathaneal Greene walked over and grabbed the poor girl by the hair, pulling her away from him. “Yes, and she should be working!” He shoved her to the ground and pointed to the wheat stalks. “NOW!”

John was appalled. He raced over to her and helped her up before turning and glaring at Greene. “She’s only 11 for god sake, Nathaneal! They’re human just like us, so why must they be treated otherwise!”

The commander sighed and walked off. John wasn’t about to be ignored. He hugged the younger girl until she ran off to do as she was told, then he went after his now enemy. “COMMANDER GREENE!”

Nathaneal spun around to face him. “What do you want?”

John was fuming. “I want you to apologize to her for everything you’ve done! She didn’t deserve that!”

Greene grabbed him by his waistcoat and got in his face. “She is a SLAVE, Laurens! I’ll do what I wish with her and I will not be apologizing! Now, go back to your tent unless you want lashes for disobedience.”

John was already done with this regiment and he’d barely been there a day. He knew he had to do something for the people metaphorically and literally bound by chains. It wouldn’t be easy but he had to try...somehow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John writes a letter to his dad and other fun things...right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't abandoned my works! It's just taking me a while to write them. And I deleted another work of mine, but I think I want to try and tie it into this storyline instead of making it a separate thing.

John sighed in frustration, walking back to his tent while saying nothing else. What else could he say at this point? He didn’t want to be kicked out of the militia, as that would ruin any chance he had to join any army that was built to fight in this upcoming revolution. Once he walked inside, he sat down on his makeshift bed, pulled out a small stack of parchment, quill, and inkwell, and got to writing. He wrote while whispering it to himself as that always helped with the thought process.

“Dear Father…no, that’s not any good…” He scratched it out and redipped the quill. “Father, I would like to inquire you on...no, no, no that’s not it…” He sighed a bit and scratched that out as well. “I don’t have the best writing out there, I’m trying,” he mumbled more to himself before just scribbling his thoughts out on paper. He’d edit it after.

A few hours passed and he had a poor excuse for a letter, in his eyes. John was starting to fall asleep but knew he had to get the letter back to his father as soon as possible. He read over it another few times before working on the final draft.

“Father,

I write to inquire about the possibility of recruiting slaves to fight in the War in exchange for their freedom. The women could assist the camp doctors, and children could keep up the morale in the camps. It would be an honor to one day lead a battalion of brave souls who’ve done everything for their owners and set them free. Not only is slavery harmful, it’s immoral. What will our descendants think of us in 100 or more years if we allow this to continue? They’re people just like us and should be treated as such. I hope to hear from you soon.

~John Laurens”

He let the ink dry a bit before folding it up and stepped out of his tent to put it with all the other letters that would be taken out the next morning via messenger. He turned and went back to his tent, laid down on the blankets, and stared at the ceiling of it. He let his mind wander too far back and broke down quietly into his pillow after a few minutes of letting memories stew and curdle into something sour, like old milk. 

“Just let it go, John...just let it go,” he whispered to himself, knowing that’s not how it worked, but needed to try it anyway. He tried everything he could think of to sleep, and nothing was working. Finally, he gave up and left his tent, making his way down to the stream that was within the camp, holding a dimly lit lantern. Running water usually helped calm him down before his emotions grabbed too tight a hold on him. He flinched every time he heard a twig snap behind him, or sometimes even his own feet rustling the leaves too loudly. “Ignore it, block it out. You’re in the middle of a military camp, no one can...oh what am I kidding, they’d be happy to do their absolute worst to you,” he whispered to himself, sighing.

After a few more minutes of walking, he made it to the stream and knelt down beside it to watch the fish swim about. He’d deal with the tongue lashing, or possibly even actual lashings for getting his trousers dirty, tomorrow. He set the lantern next to him on a flat rock to keep it from setting the grass on fire before dipping his hands in the cold water. More tears sprung to his eyes as he thought of home. It wasn’t very far, and he hated that his father was a slave owner and trader, but he missed his bed, the warm fire in the hearth, and his mother. She had gotten sick with Yellow Fever before he left and he longed to be back by her side. “You need to get past this training. You can do so much good in this world if you stick with it.” He curled up in the grass and let the trickle of the stream lull him to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gets a surprise visit from someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait. I've been super busy lately! As always it seems. But here ya go!

John was awoken by the drum call, and stood up, finding himself face to face with an irate commander. He swallowed back the whimper threatening to come out and looked up at him like a scared puppy. “Please, sir, I apologize, I couldn’t sleep so I came out here to watch the fish. I’m sorry, I’ll do anything just please don’t hurt me.”

Greene rolled his eyes and grabbed the younger man’s arm, pulling him toward the main tent, seemingly disgusted. “Oh would you shut it already! There’s someone here that wants to meet you. God only knows why he’d want to meet the likes of you. I should just hand you over to the Redcoats; you’re a damn easy target.”

John knew better than to fight him and followed, head down. “Please don’t, sir. I’ll get better, I’ll work hard, I promise.”

Greene let go of his arm right before they reached the tent and acted like he didn’t just manhandle the poor kid. “Right this way, Private.” He pushed back one of the tent flaps and let him go inside, in which John obeyed.

George Washington sat in a chair, one leg crossed over the other and looked up at John as he entered. “Good morning, Laurens. Your father informed me you were here and I wanted to speak to you about a position in the Continental Army as my aide-de-camp. You will have plenty of time to move up ranks, but your father wishes for you to stay out of the fighting whilst you’re so young.”

John wrapped his arms around his small frame in an attempt at comfort. “Y-yes, sir. I’d...I’d like that.”

Washington stood up and walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We need to work on your timidness. I’ll have you remain here for another week to get as much agility and musket training in as possible, and then I will personally come to fetch you and bring you back to camp.” 

John panicked and took a few steps back, nearly falling backward out of the tent. “Okay, sir. Whatever you wish.”

Washington grabbed his wrists to keep him from falling and led him to a chair to sit down, which he did. He then pulled up a second chair and sat in front of him. “What’s bothering you, son? And don’t lie to me, I can tell something’s off.”

John’s eyes filled with tears, which he tried to quickly brush away. “I can’t tell you. I’m sorry, I’m too afraid of the consequences, sir.”

Washington studied the young man’s facial expressions for a moment. “I need to know what’s going on in that head of yours, Laurens.”  
John pulled his knees to his chest and hid his face in them. “Commander Greene...h-he’s...he’s bullying me.”

Washington raised an eyebrow. “How so, John? I need a bit more than that, son.”

John hesitated a bit longer before offering more information. “He threatened to humiliate me in front of the camp if I put my uniform on wrong yesterday, which was my first day. Then today he told me he should just give me to the Redcoats because I’m an easy target. He shouted at me for defending their slave...she’s only a girl, sir. Slavery is a sin and should be abolished. I don’t feel safe here…” he let his mind wander as a coping mechanism and Washington had to gently bring him back.

“I’ll have Nathanial sign you off to me today then. You’ll be my aide-de-camp until you’re older. How does that sound?” he questioned.

John nodded and looked up, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “Please, General.”

George nodded back and gave a small half smile, patting his shoulder before standing up. “Come with me then.” After John stood up, he led him out and went up to Greene. “I need you to sign a release form for this young man. He’s coming to stay with me and my army.” He pulled a sheet of parchment out of his overcoat and handed it to him.

Greene narrowed his eyes at John. “You opened your mouth, didn’t you Laurens?”

Washington stepped in between them. “None of that. I will demote you if you press this issue further. I feel it’s in his best interest to be in my care.”

Greene sighed and signed the papers. “Fine. Get the scrawny brat away from my men.” He turned and walked off dramatically after throwing them at the Lt. General.

Washington just shook his head and wrapped part of his woolen coat over the kid, leading him to the tent to collect his belongings and to the awaiting carriage afterward.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John + Fire= a good time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but I'm already working on chapter 6!

“Ignore him, John. You’re safe with me.” He put the bag in the back before helping Laurens into the wagon, joining him right after. “Have a seat in the hay and get some rest if you can. It’ll be a few hours at the bear minimum.” He chuckled at his stupid joke and draped his overcoat over John. 

John curled up in the hay and closed his eyes, ignoring his grumbling stomach. He was far too tired to think about food, but far too hungry to think about sleep. “Thank you, sir.”

Washington sat next to him to keep watch and laid a gentle but firm hand on his back. “No need to call me ‘sir’, Laurens. Call me Dad. Also, are you hungry?”  
John nodded and rubbed his eyes. “Ye-”

Washington got a huge grin on his face. “Hi Hungry, I’m Dad.”

John groaned and hid in his arms. “Why must you do this to me…”

Washington burst out laughing and took out some bread and ale from his bag. “I’m sorry, you’ll get used to it. Here, sit up and eat something.”

John rolled over and tried to pull himself up, failing miserably. He let out a frustrated whimper after trying several more times but was too weak as it all caught up to him. “I can’t! I haven’t eaten in at least three days.”

Washington stopped laughing and helped him sit up, letting him lean on his arm. He held out a piece of bread, which John took and devoured. The General gave him another and reached up to pet his head. “Was Greene not feeding you?”

John shook his head and shoved the second piece into his mouth like it was nothing, nearly swallowing it whole. He took the canteen that was offered and downed it as well before passing out in his temporary father’s arms. Washington felt a pang of empathy for his new son and cradled him, wrapping the large coat around him. “Sleep well, Son. I’ll wake you when we get there.” He leaned back against the side of the wagon and watched the trees pass by, tranquility overcoming him. 

Just then, a British patrol saw their wagon and approached, unable to see who was in the back just yet. The captain of the patrol waved to them. "Hey, you there! Do you have papers? You cannot cross the bridge unless you have papers!"

Washington was now very much on edge. He held John a bit tighter and looked up at the driver. "Faster. We need to get back to camp but we cannot lead them there. And if we stop, we're all dead."

The driver picked up the pace from a trot to a full out sprint, making sure the wagon wouldn't detach. The man next to him pulled out a pistol and loaded it, ready for a gunfight if it broke out. He had no qualms about shooting these Redcoats. They killed his son after all. "I'll keep them at bay if I can," he reassured Washington. "Just lay low and don't get yourself shot. We can't afford to lose you or the kid. Lord knows Henry Laurens would murder any Brit that laid their hands or bullets on his son."  
,  
Captain Simcoe didn't like the fact they were trying to escape one bit. He pulled out his own pistol and shot at the wagon, the bullet ricocheting off the wheel and into the trees. "Bloody hell! Catch up to them!" He chased after them, shooting wildly like a moron.

John had woken up and started to panic, nearly jumping out of the wagon. "No no no why are they here..."

Washington grabbed him and pulled him close, shielding the teen the best he could. "Don't talk, don't move, just be still and quiet. We'll get out of here."

John nodded and hid under his overcoat, trembling. "Wait...do you have any alcohol and matches?"

Washington chuckled softly and grabbed a bottle of whiskey, a cloth from his uniform, and a box of matches. "Go wild."

John loved fire. His father had to confiscate the candles when he was younger, but he learned ways around it. He shoved the cloth into the alcohol bottle, lit the end of it, and threw it at the patrol. It shattered and set the ground underneath the officers ablaze, causing them to panic and ditch the horses, running as far away from the flames as they could whilst their horses ran in all directions. He giggled and clasped his hands together. "Yes!"

The driver laughed and got them out of there and back to camp a few hours later. "That was something else, Laurens!"


End file.
